Author of the Frontier Trilogy

Of Cats…

I’ve been away from home for a week now, and I was speaking to my husband the other day, and checking to make sure that my cat was behaving himself. His name is Nosey. I’ve blogged about him before here, but only briefly. Nosey, or Monster Kitten as he is otherwise known, is only a year old. He was a tiny, and ridiculously cute, cuddly little kitten.

At the age of a one year, though, he is no longer tiny, and I think he’s still ridiculously cute. My family does not seem quite so sure. He still has his little lion toy which is carted all over the house and loved to bits, and he likes to sit on top of his cat perch and play “catch.” The only drawback with “catch” is that after he’s caught his toy horsey or the lion, he drops it on the floor and expects you to pick it up again so that you can throw it again.

Anyway, I said to my husband, (Mal), “Is Nosey being good?”

He said, “I think he’s missing you.”

“Oh, that’s cute.”

“No it isn’t,” he replied, “I can’t walk anywhere without him trying to run between my feet!”

And apparently he’s lost his collar again, which makes about three, I think, so far. It’s likely that I’ll find it lying somewhere forlornly under a couch.

We also have another cat – Socks. Socks is tiny, neat, delicate and so feminine we bought her a diamante collar. She’s not an “in your face” kind of cat the way Nosey is, but once she’s found a comfy spot, she likes to keep it.

Last week, we had the face off. Socks had the chair, and Nosey wanted it. I think I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves…